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Updated: June 9, 2025
There were but three faces which did not show favor for the marriage and, of course, the three were the King's, Lotzen's, and mine. At least, I assume mine evidenced my repugnance. I am quite sure I felt it. "It is altogether useless, my Lords, for us to discuss the marriage matter," said Frederick.
She passed her hand across her brow and stared at me incredulously. I turned half aside and glanced around the table. Every face but three showed blank amazement. Of those three, the Princess's wore a tolerant smile; Lotzen's a frown; but Courtney's was set in almost a sneer. And, at it, I marvelled. Later, I understood; he had, by some queer intuition, guessed what was to follow.
"It's none of my business, of course, Armand," he went on, "but, why don't you run her out of the Kingdom, instead of keeping her in by force." "I'm waiting for her to get tired of the game and quit." He thought a bit. "Maybe, I can help you," he said. I had not Lotzen's gift of imperturbability but I did my best not to show my surprise.
Of course, the natural method would have been to direct the Valerian Ambassador, at Washington, to procure the information; but, I felt quite sure, that would simply be playing into Lotzen's hand. Some one in the Embassy would be very willing to oblige the Heir Presumptive by betraying me. And it was only reasonable to suppose the Duke had already arranged for it.
"On the contrary, cousin, I am kind to put it so and you know it." But Lotzen's equanimity was not to be disturbed. He smiled with engaging frankness. "The Queen can do no wrong," he said, and bowed over the table. Just then, Madeline Spencer arose and I breathed a sigh of relief she was going. The next instant I almost gasped.
It reached the velvet hesitated passed through and just pierced my flesh then, was withdrawn. And, with that cut, came the blood-lust, like unto the rage of the berserker of old. Yet, somehow, I had the sense to stand quiet and let the red passion burn itself out. I would need all my coolness to meet Lotzen's skill. "Now, will monsieur remove his mask?" he asked.
Behind me clattered a brilliant Staff, and in my hand was the Baton of a Marshal, yet, never in my life, had I felt so utterly alone as at that moment. And Lotzen's recent sneer, that I could hope to hold the Crown only if the Princess Dehra were my Queen, struck me in all its truth.
Under the Law, here, it needs but my Decree to make you eligible to the Crown; and that necessarily would displace Lotzen and make you Heir Presumptive. How do you think he would view it?" "How would any man view it?" I asked. "But what have Lotzen's views to do with the matter?" Frederick asked sharply. "I am the King; here are the Laws. What Dalberg would dispute them?"
I followed him, without a word for none was needed. The end of Lotzen's game was very near, indeed. In the lower corridor, we met a servant. "Show us to the apartments of Madame Dalberg," Frederick ordered. A dozen steps brought us to a large double door. "This is the entrance, Your Majesty," said the man. The King rapped sharply. There was no prompt answer and he rapped again.
I dared not urge her further; Lord Radnor would have suspected me of making sport of his wife. So I cudgelled my brain for some other subject to talk up with her. Of course, I failed to find it instantly, and, in the momentary silence, Lotzen's opportunity came. "Armand," he said, leaning a bit forward, "Lady Helen and I have been discussing the woman in black, yonder the pretty one.
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